


raise your cup and drink it up (goodnight, lover, goodnight)

by Coffeesforcatchers



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complicated Relationships, Eurydice gets to go home, F/M, Fix-It, Hades isn't as mean as he seems, Happy Ending, Hermes is Orpheus' dad, Hurt/Comfort, Persephone runs a speakeasy, Post-Canon, Revolution, Speakeasies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-11-26 16:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20933174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeesforcatchers/pseuds/Coffeesforcatchers
Summary: When she stumbled back to Hadestown, the god of the Underworld ushered Eurydice back into his office.“Go ahead and cry, I’m not going to mock you for it,” he said, “I know what it feels like for your lover to leave you behind.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is based on a lyric from We Raise Our Cups

When she stumbled back to Hadestown, broken and defeated, the god of the Underworld ushered Eurydice back into his office. 

“There’ll be riots if they see you back so soon, songbird,” he said, voice a rumble that Eurydice could feel in her chest. His imposing frame blocked hers from view, casting a shadow that was thick and clammy-cool. Eurydice shivered. Was it colder down here? Or was that just because she was standing in the shadow of Death?

It wasn’t far to the mansion that loomed over the rest of Hadestown. It was spotless white marble, columns and brocades, something that didn’t belong in the center of the slums. Eurydice remembered the first time she was here, thinking that this really was the answer to her problems. She had been wrong, and now she wondered what was going to go wrong this time.

Hades held the door to his office open for her, and followed close behind her. He didn’t bother closing the door behind him. 

He pulled out a chair for her, circling around behind his desk. She scrubbed at her face as she sat down, coal dust and tears stinging her eyes. Hades settled in his armchair, rummaging through a filing cabinet. He selected a manila file and set it down gently on the dark wood of his desk.

“Go ahead and cry, I’m not going to mock you for it,” Hades said, pulling a lighter out of a pocket on the inside of his vest and setting it down next to the file. “I know how much it hurts for your lover to leave you behind.”

Eurydice felt her rage spark and bloom in her chest, the flower tucked behind her ear burning like a brand. She leapt from her seat, slamming her fists down on Hades’ desk. The god didn’t even flinch. 

“If you know how it feels, why didn’t you let him take me home?” she snarled, her throat hoarse with smog and sorrow. “Why didn’t you let me go home? Why have you damned me here?”

The god ran his fingers through his white hair, refusing to make eye contact with her. “Songbird-”

“I have a name, you know. It’s Eurydice. Use it.”

Hades nodded solemnly. “Eurydice, I did what I had to. Have you noticed how quiet it’s become?”

She blinked, and she listened. There was the distant hum of machinery, but it was nowhere near as loud as it was the first time she was in this room, even with the door open. 

“You’re shutting down the factories?”

Hades winced. “Just a few of the foundries to make it cooler. Persephone and I are trying again.”

“Good,” Eurydice said, sinking back into her seat. “At least his song brought spring back. That was why he was writing it, before I… came here.”

Hades nodded, a sad smile on his face. “Yes, some of the foundries are shut down, but did you notice?”

“Notice what?”

“The Fates followed you, whispering in your ear, and in the ears of those who made the choices that led you here in this moment. They were the ones urging you to come here that winter, the ones that made him not able to look back, the ones who sowed the seeds of doubt in your lover’s head. They’re gone, Eurydice. They’ve left. They’re satisfied with what’s happened here, and don’t care what happens to you next.”

“How is that supposed to be good news?” Eurydice cried. “I’m still trapped down here and Orpheus is all alone up there!”

Hades shook his head. “My wife promised me that she would keep an eye on your poet, no matter what happened, and you know that his father will make sure that he’s alright.”

“Orpheus never knew his father,” Eurydice said, blinking away her tears. 

“I meant Hermes, Eurydice. You know he cares for that boy like his own son. Although, I will have Hermes send a message up to my other nephew and make sure he keeps an eye on his boy. Besides, don’t fret so much, you won’t be trapped down here for more than six months. I swear on the Styx, Eurydice.”

She blinked, sitting up straight in her chair, knuckles white against the arms of her chair. “What?”

“When my wife has to return here for the winter, I will take the train and go up to greet her. I’ll take you with me, and you’ll get to go home to your poet,” Hades said. 

Eurydice felt her head spinning. She got to go? After everything? She sputtered for several moments, clearing her throat and trying again. “But, but my contract?”

“I’ll be renegotiating every worker’s contract in the months to come. We’re starting new.”

Hades smiled, and Eurydice was taken aback by how kind, how fatherly he could look if he was trying. “And as for your contract, I declare it null and void,” he said, reaching into the file he had selected from his cabinet and pulling out a sheet of paper. 

Eurydice winced as she recognized her own handwriting. Hades held it up in front of him, flicking his lighter with deft, calloused fingers. She watched as the contract binding her to Hadestown went up in flames. 

Eurydice nodded. “Why do you still need me here, then? Why can’t I just go?”

Hades capped the lighter and stuffed it back into his vest pocket with a sigh. “It’s selfish of me, to keep you here after I’ve caused you and your lover so much pain. But there’s a bar down in between the factories and the wall. Persephone used to run it behind my back while she was here and couldn’t stand me. I need you to help run it until she comes home.”

“You what?”

“You worked at Hermes’ bar, correct?”

“Yeah, for like three months bussing tables!”

“You won’t be alone. You will have my most trusted confidants at your side, Hecate and Nyx. They will help you, as they have helped my wife.” 

Eurydice smiled for the first time since she realized her poet had come for her. “Alright, then, Mr. Hades. Show me this bar I’ve gotta run.”


	2. Chapter 2

He made it back up top. 

She didn’t. 

He turned around. 

She was gone. 

Orpheus fell to his knees in the late winter snow the moment he exited the tunnel to Hadestown. 

Hermes found him there several hours later. 

Orpheus tilted his head up to look at him. His eyes were rimmed red, coal dust smeared across his fair skin, streaked with tears. “Mr. Hermes, I failed the test. I failed her. I failed Eurydice. I promised Eurydice I would take her home!”

Hermes knelt next to the poet, in the melting snow of spring. “Oh, Orpheus. Let’s get you out of the cold.”

The god helped the poet to his feet, and they made their way to the bar. Orpheus leaned into the arm wrapped around his side, accepting Hermes’ support. 

It was a quiet trudge through the melting snow. Orpheus sniffed, wiping his nose with the hand not clutching his lyre. The cold bit at him, after the long, dry heat of Hadestown. 

In the quiet of the empty bar, The goddess of spring was there waiting for them, pouring a glass of wine. Another glass was full to the brim next to her. She was still wearing the black dress she wore in Hadestown, and her hair was still tied out of her face, fresh off the train, ready to bring the world back to life. 

When Orpheus saw her there, his knees buckled. His hand darted out to clasp the bartop to support himself. “Auntie ‘Seph. You’re early.”

She stood from her barstool, glass in hand. “I heard, poet. Drink. It’ll help with the hurt for a while.”

Orpheus shook his head, taking his lyre off of his back and setting it down on the bartop. “Wine isn’t gonna help me with what I’m feeling.”

She though. “Yeah, it’ll just make you numb.”

“I want to, no, I need to feel this,” Orpheus said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s my fault. This is all my fault.”

“Brother, you know that’s not true,” Persephone said. She reached out to him, letting the boy fall into her arms with a sob. She knew what it felt like, before Hades started coming earlier, and she returned later. “You’ve done the impossible, poet. You brought back spring with a song. I owe you big time.”

Orpheus leaned back, eyes glassy and wet. “But it was for Eurydice, and she’s never gonna be able to see it.”

Hermes put his hand on Orpheus’ shoulder. “We know, Orpheus. It wasn’t in vain, you know.”

The gods made the boy eat and drink, something warm and substantial in his stomach. Hermes led him to the apartment above the bar, convinced him to put his lyre down. Orpheus washed his face of the coal dust and blood and tears, while Hermes gently set his lyre in its case.

“When was the last time you slept, Orpheus?” 

The boy shrugged. Weeks of searching had stained the skin under his eyes, hollowed his cheeks. 

Hermes gently persuaded the boy to lay down on his bed. “You don’t have to sleep, just rest. I’ll be downstairs. I’ll come up and check on you in the morning, Orpheus. I just need to know that you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Ok,” Orpheus blinked back a fresh wave of tears and nodded. “‘Night, Mr. Hermes.”

“Good night, Orpheus.”

Once he was gone, Orpheus turned his head into the threadbare pillow, taking a deep breath. It still smelled like her, even after all the time that she had been gone. It smelled of her soap, cinnamon and clove. Orpheus buried his head into the pillow and tried not to cry. 

* * *

Downstairs, Hermes returned to Persephone’s side. “He’s gonna need a lot of help to get through the summer, sister.” Hermes said, accepting the glass that Persephone offered him, the one she had originally offered Orpheus. 

“I pity that poor boy,” Persephone said, draining her glass. Hermes took a sip of his.

“Something’s wrong with your wine, Persephone. This is just grape juice.”

She laughed, pouring herself a refill. “Oh, I know. I’m gonna start trying to cut back on my drinking. It’s like Orpheus said. It isn’t gonna help with any of my problems. If anything, it only made things worse down there.”

He smiled something sad at her. “Honestly, sister, it’s ‘bout time for a change.”

“I know,” 

The gods sat there in silence. Persephone raised her glass. “To Orpheus, that poor boy.”

Hermes raised his cup to hers before taking a long drink. “To Orpheus.”

Persephone finished her glass and set it down on the bar top. “My husband asked me to keep an eye on him up top. Well, this was before we knew that she wasn’t going to make it back with him. Something about him seemed to remind my husband of himself.”

“A man in love with a woman,” Hermes said, a sad smile on his face. 

“Oh, don’t be such a sap, brother,” Persephone said, reaching for her flask to pour herself some more grape juice. “Don’t make me miss him before July.”

“I’ll just remind you that I’ll send letters down to him if you’d so please,” Hermes said, propping an elbow against the bartop. 

“Thank you, brother. I’m sure that boy would love to send some down too. I’d think my husband would get them to Eurydice, if Orpheus sent something down.”

Hermes smiled. “I’m sure that he would. And if he wouldn’t? I’d get those letters to her myself.”

Persephone put down her glass, the tin clinking against the wood. “You really love that boy, dontcha?”

“I love him more than our half brother does, that’s for sure.”

Persephone smiled, putting a slender hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want me to say it, but you’re more of a father to him than Apollo will ever be. And you did a fine old job on that young man, Hermes.”

“Thanks, ‘Seph.”

“No problem, brother. Now, how in the name of Olympus are we going to get through this summer?”


End file.
